


a taste of the sea

by chuplayswithfire



Category: The Lego Movie
Genre: Abuse, Cannibalism, Forced Cannibalism, Gen, Gore, Horror, M/M, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2550893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuplayswithfire/pseuds/chuplayswithfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Cops AU. Lord Business decides to grant his Cops a taste of what they’ve been wanting. Just, not the way they might have thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a taste of the sea

**Author's Note:**

> An old work. While I no longer work in precisely this universe I'm still proud of this and want to share it.

Fighting Metalbeard always left them aching and hurt after, but usually - usually it was exciting, a thrill at having seen and fought their old rival and lived. This time…

The last they’d seen of Metalbeard had been the sight of them half crawling half dragging himself to his escape craft, the single surviving member of their crew helping tug them along. A bloody trail - three bloody trails - had been left behind them, each one of them a reminder of what they’d done.

A hand, an eye, new scars - that’s what they’d cost their old rival before. This? Three limbs? How could they ever bounce back? Bad Cop scowled, clenching his fists. They should have killed him. It had been the order, it would have been kinder but -

But.

The thought of never seeing that flag or fighting the old pirate or chasing him through the streets and across the sea had been agonizing, for both of them. So, despite the loyalty, despite the efficiency, despite the orders, they’d held back just enough that Metalbeard had escaped.

And now here they were.

"You know I don’t like it when you space out on, Bad Cop," the voice was friendly, chiding even, as if this were just a normal evening, a normal dinner. Except Lord Business never invited them to dinner and Bad Cop was sure the man was furious with him for letting Metalbeard get away.

It was a game, surely. Some kind of game he didn’t understand but he had to play along. He had to keep watching and waiting, playing the game, if he wanted to keep himself and Good Cop alive and well. “Apologies, Sir,” he said, looking down.

"Nothing to worry about, buddy~! Accidents happen, you know? Now come on, dig in. I had this dinner made special, just for you and the other guy!"

There was something… eerie about that. The words were harmless enough and yet Bad Cop felt a shiver run down his spine. But with Lord Business’ hard gaze boring into him, he picked up the knife and fork and looked down once more at the meal on his plate.

Broccoli, carrots, bits of pan-fried potato and small strips of dark meat, covered in a rich gravy… it actually looked like something his Mummy would have cooked, if she had the time and knew he was coming over. Hesitating and not knowing why, Bad Cop raised the knife and began cutting into the meat, pushing it into the gravy to soak more before slowly speaking a piece of brocolli and raising it to his lips.

Uncomfortably aware of Lord Business’ scrutiny, he chewed and swallowed, feeling the tender stalks break in his mouth - it was well cooked, just the right amount of crisp that gave under a good solid crunch. The next few bites were just as well cooked - but he avoided the meat. He didn’t know why but… something about it seemed off.

"What kind of meat is this again, sir?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"… It’s lamb. I thought with all your hard work, you might like a bit of a taste of home. Something familiar, friendly even."

He nodded, accepting the answer, despite the vaguest uneasy feeling in his gut. He trusted his instincts, they’d helped keep him alive and in Lord Business’ good favor, but right now he couldn’t understand what was setting them off, only that he knew he couldn’t refuse to finish this meal.

Slowly the knife came down, sawing a piece of meat from the rest and he raised it to his lips, taking a bite. Lord Business smiled and he froze, hesitating. Poison? He couldn’t taste anything but - spices could cover it. A drug? Why would he bother, Lord Business had to know there was no need for that. Pinned under his lord’s gaze he chewed, throat tight. If it was poison, he was damned regardless and yet -

"Hurry up and swallow Bad Cop. You don’t want to insult me do you? After all, you’ve made quite a fool of yourself already, do you really want to upset me now?"

Calmly delivered and yet - anticipatory. But it was obvious he didn’t have a choice. He chewed, feeling the meat give under his teeth and wondering almost casually what sort of effect this would have.

A drug? Poison? What had his lord cooked up for him this time?

A rough swallow, the meat catching at the back of his throat and he shook off the superstitious thought that it didn’t want to be eaten.

"Keep eating, Bad Cop. Go on, you haven’t eaten anything in days."

Because they’d been in the hospital and then the quiet room. Metalbeard hadn’t taken losing three of their limbs quietly and he’d gotten grazed twice and had a new through and through in his side to make up for it. What was a bit of dinner compared to that?

Perhaps he’d finally screwed up too much, and this was a final meal-

"How does it feel, Bad Cop?"

"…Sir?" Green eyes blinked behind dark glasses, confusion evident on his face.

"After all, this is what you’ve wanted, right? What you betrayed me for? You let that filthy mongrel escape because you wanted him inside you, didn’t you? So how does it feel?"

Dread pounded in his blood, fingers clenched tight around the fork and knife. “Sir?”

He couldn’t mean what that sounded like. Lord Business was insane but - “Sir?!” More desperately, because Lord Business just at there, smiling cruelly and there was - there was - surely -

"How does it feel to have him inside you, Bad Cop?"

The fork and knife dropped from numb fingers, nausea was building in his gut and he found himself swallowing compulsively. He was going to be sick, he was going to be sick this was insanity -

"Is it what you always wanted?"

At some point, in the middle of what he was recognizing as a goddamned panic attack, Lord Business had made his way torwards him. Hands clapsed around his shoulders like steel chains, holding him rigid. “You know I don’t let traitors live, but well, I think this is a better punishment. Taunting you, teasing you, all this time he’s really just been a temptation, trying to steal you from me. Well, no need for that anymore, buddy. Now if you want to know what it’s like to have him inside you…”

He couldn’t speak. His mouth opened but words wouldn’t come out, just a terrible gagging sound as he tried to vomit and failed. Bad Cop’s stomach heaved and his shoulders shook, but nothing would come out.

"Oh, I spiked your dinner with an anti-emetic. No reason to have you go losing this delicious meal, wouldn’t you say? You’ll be able to hold that down for hoooours~ Now why don’t you pick up that fork and finish your dinner, Bad Cop? Or well, I suppose that’s a little unfair. After all, you’re not the only traitor here…" His hand trailed down, coming to a rest at Bad Cop’s thigh, rubbing the flesh possessively. The cop was perfectly still, avoiding flinching only because he had long since gotten used to the proprietory way Lord Business felt about his body.

"In fact, I like that idea. Good Cop’s been /such/ a trouble maker lately, why don’t you let him out, I’m sure he’s worked up quite the … appetite for pirate flesh."

Without a thought, a moment of consideration, Bad Cop shook his head, refusing without words. Immediately the hand that had been at his shoulder struck his face in a solid backhand, knocking the aviators cleanly off his face.

"That was /not/ a suggestion Bad Cop, you do not get to refuse me! I own you, body and soul and that means /both/ of you. Now bring out that pathetic, whimpering traitor before I make you regret even hearing the name Metalbeard!"

Good Cop couldn’t have been aware of what was going on, but Bad Cop realized with a sinking feeling that he would certainly have figured out that /something/ was wrong. He might have been able to keep the horror and fear from his face, but he couldn’t keep it from his /mind/. Trapped between Lord Business and the dinner table, he felt his resistance die and within a moment, his eyes closed.

The change was subtle but clear to anyone who had seen it before. Tense shoulders relaxed purposely, a grim face smoothed into falsely cheerful curves, and the green eyes that opened were ruthless, flecked with caution. This was hardly the first time he’d taken over in a volatile situation but … usually that situation wasn’t Lord Business pressing against him, keeping him pinned before what looked like a perfectly average meal.

But Bad Cop didn’t panic for just anything and he’d definitely been leaking panic everywhere, what did their boss have cooked up now?

"Sir?"

"Good Cop, glad you could join me, buddy. See, Bad Cop and I were sharing an … oh so special meal, and I thought to myself, really, it’s not fair that Bad Cop and I should have all the fun, you’re my special buddy too. After all, you mean oh so much to me, Good Cop."

The taunting, that was nothing new, but that smile - he hated that smile, the one that always said ‘I know something you don’t. I know something you don’t and it’s going to ruin you~’.

Saying Lord Business hated him - well, that would be going too far. But he certainly didn’t like him, or appreciate him nearly as much as he did Bad Cop. He found Good Cop /useful/ but certainly not interesting.

Usually.

Right now, he seemed to find him very interesting, and Good Cop didn’t like it. “Thank you sir, but I have to -“

"Do nothing but agree with me, because you’re a good cop, isn’t that correct? And good cops follow their superior’s orders. Now /eat/."

Good Cop’s eyes narrowed in an icy glare, hiding it beneath a broad smile. No, there was no place for rage here, no place to be angry. To dangerous. Had to keep it low, keep it hidden. It wasn’t /time/ yet, not now.

"Whatever you say, Lord Business, sir." Holding spite in by the power of pure will, Good Cop picked up the fork, stabbed it into the meat and potatoes, and took a bite.

Almost immediately, he knew something was wrong. Besides the taste - it was seasoned well, but it didn’t taste like any kind of meat he’d ever had, and he’d ventured to taste plenty of flesh. Just as the thought crossed his mind to spit it back out he felt pressure on his shoulders and fingers dug into his thigh.

"Don’t even think about it. Be a Good boy and eat your dinner."  
  
He swallowed convulsively, glaring straight ahead, wondering what he was eating that had caused the earlier fuss. It tasted off, but surely a drug or poison would have kicked in by now.

"I do hope this ruins that dreadful appetite of yours. Lusting after pirate scum is bad enough but you’ve been dragging Bad Cop into your deviancy and you know how I feel about letting people play with my Cop, Good Cop."

Good Cop stiffened, excuses coming to his lips, but Lord Business shook his head, glaring a warning against saying a single word.

"Don’t try to defend yourself, I know what you’ve been up to. Did you think I’d miss it? How you look at the filthy criminal? The way you smile at him? Oh no, you’re a treacherous little slut Good Cop, but I do think that this /taste/ will shut you down. After all… he’s inside you now. No need to keep chasing him, because I doubt he’ll forgive you for eating the legs you stole from him."

There was an unholy grin on his face.

"Lucky for you, I will."


End file.
